Malfoy Has Returned
by purplejuniormints
Summary: It is Year 7, and despite the chaotic events of the previous year, Hermione and her two best friends have returned for their last year. But when an unexpected student also returns, Hermione's world turns upside down. HermioneDraco
1. He's Back

**Author's Note: This is my first Harry Potter fic. I think I know where I want to go with this story, but I'd really appreciate any input from readers. I know this story is quite inaccurate to what Book 7 will be like, but I tried to keep as many things the same as would still keep me satisfied. So please enjoy and don't forget to review!**

As the Hogwarts Express sped along the green blur that was the English countryside, Hermione's eyes traced the violet outline of the grey clouds along the horizon. The orange sun was slowly making its way behind the trees in the distance, and the brilliant hues that had filled the sunset not five minutes ago were now fading. It must have been at least six hours since they departed from King's Cross Railway Station at platform 9 ¾, and Hermione was weary from a day of travel.

Her eyelids drooped. She was partly stretched out, with her body relaxed and her head placed against the side of the compartment. Her eyes wandered over to the two other bodies that also occupied the compartment. She smiled. For the first time in a long time, Harry looked as if he slept peacefully. His hair was ruffled so that only the bottom of his scar was exposed. His lips were, only just, curled into a soft smile. She wondered if he was dreaming about his parents. Her gaze roamed over to the sleeping form of Ronald. His messy head of hair was gradually sliding down the wall and she chuckled when she saw the drool that had formed at the corner of his mouth.

Finally, she looked back at the sky. As watched the last traces of violet fade, she resolved that she would have liked nothing better than to fall asleep right then and there. She closed her eyes, listening to the train barrel across the tracks and letting her body sway to the rhythm of its engine. In this picture of calmness was where she finally fell asleep.

"…nearly there. Should we wake her up?"

"Well, we're going to have to eventually."

Hermione was startled by the voices, and her eyes flickered open. She looked directly into the face of a wide-eyed Ron. He grinned at her.

" 'ello, Hermione. Sleep well?" he inquired, slightly amused.

She hurriedly sat up and fixed her sweater. "Yes, thank you, Ron," she responded, in a state of vague bewilderment. She looked toward the window. It was entirely dark.

"Did you say we were nearly there, Harry?" she asked Harry, glancing at him.

He nodded. "Yes, Ginny came a just a minute ago to let us know."

After a minute of silence, Harry and Ron could tell Hermione was annoyed.

"Well, then, you _could _have woken me up," Hermione said, with a hint of irritation in her voice. "Why_ didn't _you?"

"That's why," Ron stated. "You were so peaceful."

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh, but relaxed. "After all these years," she said. "You _still_ can't seem to figure me out."

Harry and Ron both laughed. "Okay, maybe," said Harry. "But, you still love us."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "As much as it possible to love you two," she laughed.

"Ha!" Ron hooted. "You admit it! Aw, we love you too, Hermione. Right Harry?"

Harry laughed. "Sure," he said.

Hermione paused. "Well, of course I love you guys," she said, smiling. "You've _only_ been my best friends for almost seven years."

As soon as she said that, the reality of the present seemed to register in all of their minds.

Their seventh year. Their _last _year. Hermione could hardly believe it.

It had come as a shock when they had all received letters inviting them back for another school year. After the attack on the school and the murder of Dumbledore, Hermione was positive that they would not return to Hogwarts for their last year. Hermione and Ron were even more astonished that Harry had returned with them. He had said himself that he would take this year to continue his battle against Voldemort. But he decided to continue with school anyway; he told them that he would most likely have to leave at some point in the year when he finally learns the locations of the remaining horcruxes. Both Hermione and Ron insisted that they join him when sets out. Harry had assured them that he would keep them involved as much as he could, but if the situation became too dangerous, he would have to deal with it on his own.

Hermione realized that this train ride, a ride that could be their last on the Hogwarts Express, may have also been the last time that they had will have been all together, peaceful, and free from worry. It wasn't as if they didn't have any problems, but during that journey, their worries had seemed to fade away for a while.

A few minutes later, when they had finally changed into their robes, Hermione sat back, and began to think again. She glanced at Harry. When she had watched him sleep, his expression was calm and peaceful, but when she saw him now, his face was furrowed with worry. She caught his eye. She gave him a weak smile.

"It'll be okay, Harry," she said with understanding.

Ron gave a weak smile, too. "Yeah, Harry," he said. "You've got us, remember?"

Hermione did not recognize any of her classmates until she stepped off the train onto the dark platform of the Hogwarts Station. As she greeted them, some were a bit more enthusiastic about seeing her than she had expected. She was greeted with hugs, and exclamations, like "It's so great to see you," from other students. Soon, she understood the emotions that her classmates were feeling. They were scared. They were confused. They were worried. And some even were mournful. Clearly, Hermione, Harry, and Ron weren't the only one who had been bruised by the events of the previous year.

As students continued to welcome each other, the three friends made their way through the crowd. Absentmindedly, Hermione scanned the faces of the other students. She could certainly name every single student in her grade, and many outside of it. She smiled as she watched Hagrid lead the throng of first years over to the lake, which, as the tradition goes, they would cross to reach the castle.

As the trio continued to walk, Hermione heard a sharp intake of breath by Ron. She turned her head to look at him. She was about to ask him what ailed him when she set eyes on what he was glaring at. Hermione's eyes widened.

"Malfoy," she whispered.


	2. Glances in the Great Hall

**Author's Note: I don't exactly love this chapter, because I know there are some things that might be a little confusing or unclear. If you don't understand something, please let me know! And of course, if you read this story, PLEASE REVIEW. There is no point in me continuing a story with only ONE review. 92 hits? Ok, lets make that 92_ reviews_, too. **

---

Hermione stared in disbelief.

He stood beyond the gap in the crowd before them. He was not with his usual posse of Crabbe and Goyle, but rather, he was alone. Not even Pansy Parkinson or Blaise Zabini could be seen nearby. As Harry and Ron continued to glower at him, Hermione examined him.

It was as if he was the embodiment of sin, with his sleek ghostly-pale hair, his grey-silver eyes that bore holes into anyone he looked at, and his wicked scowl that would, from time to time, curl into a devilish smirk. His black robes flowed freely about him, and he could not hide his aggravation as he tried to ignore all the whispers regarding his current reputation as a death-eater and a supporter of Voldemort.

Although Hermione still had immense hatred for him, she agreed with Harry when he had said he felt pity for him. He was commanded by Voldemort to do his bidding, which was to become a death-eater and slay Albus Dumbledore. And there was no way he could refuse, especially with the wrath of his dictatorial father.

To Hermione, it was remarkable that Malfoy was even alive. She was certain that he had gone into hiding after he had unsuccessfully assassinated Dumbledore and had to leave the job to Snape. She was also certain that the Dark Lord must have been extremely furious that Malfoy did not fulfill his appointed duty. McGonagall and the other professors must have understood that Malfoy was forced to try what he attempted to do. Hermione could think of no other reason of why he would be allowed to return to Hogwarts.

And to think of how angry his father must have been. To know that his son had failed the one task entrusted to him by Lord Voldemort. It must have been a shameful day for him.

But, in a way, Hermione was glad that it was Snape and not Malfoy that killed Dumbledore. Of course, she would rather not have Dumbledore dead _at all,_ but at least this way, Malfoy didn't get blamed for anything, except of course nearly killing two students last year in his attempt to kill the headmaster.

That was probably why Ron hadn't really agreed with Harry and Hermione about their pity for Malfoy. Which was understandable. Although Malfoy had meant to poison Dumbledore with the mead in Professor Slughorn's office, Ron somehow drank it, and had almost _died _from it. If it hadn't been for Harry's quick thinking, where he forced a bezoar into his friend's mouth, Ron might be dead.

It wasn't like Malfoy had _meant_ to poison Ron or give Katie Bell a cursed necklace. He meant them for Dumbledore, and even then he was forced to try to kill him.

_Wait,_ Hermione thought quickly, _why on earth am I defending Malfoy? _He had never been nice to _anyone,_ let alone Hermione. He was an immoral, spoiled, stuck-up and foul boy who, Hermione thought, was never properly punished for any vice he committed. He had frequently called Hermione a "mudblood" without a hint of remorse. He was a _death-eater_, for Merlin's sake!

But still, he _was_ forced into it. And watching him there, the outsider, the harmful-if-touched one, the loner…not to mention the way his hair flowed and his eyes coolly watched her…he didn't seem like such a bad guy.

His eyes coolly watched her…wait a second, _Malfoy was watching her._

Hermione quickly averted her eyes. She glanced at Harry and Ron and saw that they were staring at her. Then, they all looked back at Malfoy, and saw that he had disappeared into the surging crowd. Harry and Ron went back to staring at Hermione.

This irritated Hermione. "What?" she asked them.

Harry shook his head. "Nothing…"

"Harry," said Hermione. "What is it? Why were you staring at me?"

"It was…" Ron squeaked. "…Malfoy. He was looking at you. Didn't you see?"

"Yes," said Hermione. Harry and Ron continued to stare at her. Finally, Hermione continued.

"So what?" she said. "He hates me, he was probably just trying to intimidate me."

"That prick," Ron spat. "If he ever looks at you like that again, it will be the last thing he does." He was practically fuming.

"Ron," said Hermione. "It's fine, I can take care of myself. Just forget it, ok?"

"But…" he protested.

"She's right," Harry cut in. "Besides, the last thing we want right now is to be involved with Malfoy. He'll only make more trouble for us."

Although Ron was hesitant, he agreed to let it go. "Why'd they let the prick back in, anyway?" he asked.

"They probably let him back in because he didn't really do anything wrong," Hermione said. "Except nearly killing you, Ron," she added.

Ron seethed at the thought. "And being a _death-eater._ Isn't that reason enough to keep him out of Hogwarts?"

"But it's not his fault," said Hermione, logically. "He didn't really want to be one, did he?"

"We can't be sure of that," explained Harry. "After all, the rest of his family members are death-eaters. Why wouldn't he want to be one, too?"

---

After the students had arrived at the castle in the Thestral-drawn carriages, they were seated at their house tables in the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall, who was now the headmistress, gave the customary speech.

"Welcome. I hope that you all had safe and enjoyable summers, and that the train ride was pleasant as well. I am sure that you were all delighted to receive your letters this year, of which I am also very pleased about," she said. She hesitated before continuing. "As you all know, we had an unfortunate incident last year. Our dear headmaster, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, who was an extraordinary wizard, scholar, and mentor, was…" she looked as if she was struggling to suppress tears. "…murdered," she said, finally. "I will not discuss this incident, but I will say that, for those who knew him, the memory of Professor Dumbledore will be engraved in our minds and hearts forever. And for those who never met him or felt that they never truly knew him, although this is unfortunate, we still have access to his ideas, opinions, and morals that he left behind. For the person or persons responsible for this event I will not discuss either, but it would be a wise action to not hold grudges about things you do not fully understand. I want you _all_ to remember that," she said, looking around the hall. She paused. "I also want you to remember that although you may not feel safe, we are doing all we can to ensure your security. If things get out of hand, however, we must take the necessary action and send everyone home. I hope, as I am sure all of you do, that this will not be the case." She paused again. "Now, onto business. This year, we have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Please welcome," She gestured with her hand. "Professor Clark." A handsome young man stood up and waved, smiling at the students. The students and other professors applauded.

Hermione heard whispers coming a few seats down from her. She turned her head and observed that Parvati and Lavender were giggling.

"Is he the American one?" whispered Lavender. "I heard a rumor that the new D.A.D.A. professor would be American."

"Yes, I think so," replied Parvati. "And he's fit, too, isn't he?" she giggled.

Hermione looked back at Professor Clark. _Interesting,_ she thought. _We've never had an American professor before._

As she pondered this, she unintentionally glanced over at the Slytherin Table. Her eyes wandered for a moment before they rested on the head of none other than Draco Malfoy. She gazed at him for a moment before tuning back into McGonagall's speech.

As before, he was uncharacteristically without the company of his usual "gang". Hermione felt a sudden pang of pity for him. _Is everyone really that afraid of him?_ She thought. Surely there must be _someone_ who was associating with him. She looked to his left and to his right. The only students sitting beside him were a few first years, who were probably too clueless to know who he really was. Hermione wondered how it was possible to have such awful friends that would not stand by you in your most distressing time.

All of the sudden, the grey eyes that had been concentrating on McGonagall for the past five minutes shifted and focused on a girl who Malfoy hadn't noticed had been staring at him. He looked confused for a second, and presently, when he had realized who it was, his eyebrows furrowed and he made a face that said, _What the hell?! What are you doing! Stop staring at me!_

Hermione started. She jerked back to looking at McGonagall. She hadn't even realized that she had been staring at Malfoy for the past two and a half minutes. She lost no time pondering this and immediately tuned back into McGonagall's speech.

"…probably wondering about who will be this year's Head Boy and Head Girl. For those of you who are unfamiliar, this position is given to two members of the highest form to perform a series of duties to help the organization of the school. These students have demonstrated academic excellence, punctuality, intellect, and the determination to succeed. Myself, along with the other professors, came to a final agreement about who will fill these positions. After much discussion, we have chosen these two students: This year, our Head Boy is Mister Ernie Macmillan of the Hufflepuff House. Mr. Macmillan, please present yourself, if you would."

Looking over at the Hufflepuff Table, Hermione watched a smiling Ernie stand up and bow to the hall. His table, of course, cheered louder than any of the others.

"Thank you, Mr. Macmillan," Professor McGonagall continued, smiling. "Teaming up with our new Head Boy, and who I am very pleased to announce, will be our new Head Girl, Miss Hermione Granger."

It was not until every person in the hall turned to look at her did Hermione realize what McGonagall had said. First, she blushed, then, she smiled, and then, she finally stood up with a little push from Harry. She nodded at the hall and laughed when the Gryffindor Table cheered like she had just won the Quidditch World Cup.

There was one particular student, also watching Hermione, who could not understand what exactly he was feeling at that moment. He knew that normally, he would laugh at Granger and make a nasty comment about her being a mudblood to one of his comrades. But now, he was alone, and for some strange reason, he didn't hate the girl. He simply marveled at her, wondering how it was possible to have so many people adore you at once. She was so intelligent, so clever, and she had friends. Real friends that would always be there for her.

Although Malfoy didn't necessarily _want_ real friends, he had a hinting desire to know what it felt like to be loved. He barely even knew the meaning of the word. All his life, he had pushed people away. No one cared for him, so why should he care about anyone else? So, he bullied people to make him feel like he didn't need anyone.

Of course, Malfoy would _never_ admit to any of this. In fact, he's probably ignoring these thoughts right now, and simply gazing at the girl who, not five minutes ago, he had hated. As he tried to convince himself that she was still inferior to him, he realized how attractive she had become. Malfoy almost squirmed in his seat. He had never had such a sudden, strange desire for someone that he could never have. The girls he usually fancied were always Slytherin, and were always throwing themselves at him like he was some kind of god. Hermione was different. She would never do that.

Malfoy was also wondering about something else. Why was Hermione staring at him earlier, anyway? When looked at her, she had been looking at him like he was some kind of alien.

All of the sudden, Malfoy realized that he had been thinking about the silly little mudblood for the past five minutes. With all his willpower, he repressed any thoughts about her into the farthest corner of his brain that he could manage, and promptly set about reconciling with a Slytherin girl by the name of Pansy Parkinson.


	3. I'm Not Scared of You

**Author's Note: Wow, it's been awhile! Ever since I started this fic, I've gotten 452 hits! Of course, I would also appreciate that number of reviews, but I am still very happy with the reviews I've received. Thank you: SeanEmma4Evr, firebirdflame, lilnicky21, Toxxic-hugs, darkhearted lonewolf, mary-pi, and ZoeyPie21 (I do updates whenever I can, and I liked your review best by the way). If you read, please review. I worked very hard on this chapter. :)**

Hermione stared out the window at the grounds of Hogwarts, waiting for Transfiguration to begin. She was all alone in the classroom. Normally, she would be anxiously re-studying her notes, striving to be the top participator in the class. But she couldn't seem to tear her gaze from the window and her mind from pondering.

The first day of classes was very similar to the days in previous years, and yet Hermione felt quite different. Yes, her robes had become a little small and she had grown a little taller every year, but that wasn't quite it.

So, why did she feel so different? Well, it was her last year, after all. Everything about the school seemed illuminated: the classrooms, the dorms, the Great Hall, the Quidditch pitch, the grounds, the professors, the students, and, heck, even the ghosts. All she could think about was how she would leave all of it behind in nine months. All she could do was appreciate it. How could she have taken it for granted all these years?

How lucky she had been to be born a witch. She remembered discovering her powers as a child, and how bemused her parents had been. And when she had received her letter inviting her to attend Hogwarts, although her parents knew practically nothing about the school, they were proud just the same. She had been so excited that she had acquired every book on magic she could get her hands on, and devoured every single one. She promised herself that she would become the best witch there ever was, or at least try to. Being an insecure child, she wanted to be known as someone confident in this new world of magic. _It probably annoyed the hell out of people,_ Hermione thought with a chuckle. The way she always knew the answer in class, and always got the top grade. And the way she acted like she knew everything. _I really hope I've changed,_ thought Hermione. But then that's when she realized, she _had_ changed. That's why she felt so different.

She had gone from being a precocious, annoying, and insecure know-it-all to a perceptive, positive, and mature young woman. Well, she still had her insecurities, but she definitely had improved. And, she wondered why she had matured so much since had first arrived at Hogwarts. But of course, the answer was obvious. She was friends with Harry Potter_. Harry Potter_, the boy who always came with trouble, weather he asks for it or not. Being involved in all kinds of dangerous and difficult situations would harden anyone. And often, Hermione was forced to come up with solutions to problems she, Ron, and Harry had encountered in these kinds of situations. She had never been good at quick thinking, but you'd be amazed by what you discover when you are trying to escape death, or help another escape it.

And now, she could feel it. The time was drawing near. Soon, Harry would have to make his final stand, and Hermione would be a three-headed dog if she wasn't standing there with him. She couldn't be sure if she was exactly scared or not, though she knew she should be. But it just felt too remote at the moment for her to actually feel in any danger.

For now, she just wanted to enjoy her last year. While she still could.

---

Hermione was still caught up in her thoughts when she was startled by the creak of the large door of the classroom. She looked toward the doorway, expecting to see Professor McGonagall walk into the room. Instead, she saw a pale blond head revealed from behind the door. Then a face, a neck, and shoulders, until Malfoy stepped all the way into the room.

He glanced around for a moment, expecting the room to be empty, until his eyes rested on the only other body in the room. He scowled when he realized who it was.

"Oh," he said with a hint of revulsion. He turned as if he was about to leave.

Hermione cleared her throat. "You don't have to leave." She said this so that no emotion could be traced in her voice. "Class will be starting soon, anyway."

Malfoy stopped and turned back around. He hesitated, deciding for a moment. Finally, he walked to a desk that was furthest from Hermione and slammed down his books and parchment. He pulled back the chair and sat down.

Hermione decided that now would be a good time to study. She pulled a piece of parchment out of her bag and laid it out on her desk. Trying her best to ignore the fact that Malfoy had ever entered the room, she examined her notes.

Unfortunately, Malfoy had decided to make it as hard as possible for Hermione to concentrate. She saw him watching her out of the corner of her eye. She couldn't tell what expression was on his face, but she didn't dare look up.

After a few minutes, Malfoy still hadn't looked away. Hermione's insecurities had begun to flare up, and she was suddenly very self-conscious.

_Just ignore him_, she thought.

But it was no use. She started to fidget. The room had suddenly become quite hot.

"Something wrong, Granger?" taunted Malfoy's smooth voice.

Hermione's eyes never left the parchment. "No," she said evenly.

Malfoy continued. "Are you sure? Because I have a feeling there is," he teased.

Finally, Hermione looked up at Malfoy. He was smirking at her like this was some game to him.

"I'd appreciate it if you would stop staring at me," Hermione finally said, irritated.

Malfoy wasn't deterred. "You aren't _scared_ of me, are you, Granger?" he jeered.

Hermione stared him down. "Not even close," she said confidently.

Malfoy frowned at this. "Really?" he scoffed. "Then," he continued, the edges of his mouth beginning to curl into another smirk, "Perhaps we should change that, shouldn't we?"

It took a moment for Hermione to process this. When she realized what she meant, she scowled. "Is that a threat?" she said, heated.

Malfoy shrugged. "Perhaps," he said, nonchalant.

Hermione glared at him. "You're bluffing," she said, but remained cautious.

Malfoy snickered. "I'm _bluffing_, am I?" He continued to laugh. "I think, mudblood, that you do not remember who I am." He stared into her eyes when he said this.

"Or," replied Hermione, "I know exactly who you are, and I am still not scared in the least."

"Not scared in the least, you say!" Malfoy's cruel laugh echoed throughout the large room. "You forget your place, mudblood."

Hermione knew by now that there was no use in arguing with him. He had been like this ever since she knew him, why would today be any different?

She simply went back to notes. Thankfully, Malfoy looked away. Hermione relaxed, now that she could concentrate.

After a couple of minutes, Hermione couldn't help but peek at Malfoy from behind her hair, which covered the side of her face. He was lounging back in his chair, inspecting the classroom.

"I have to wonder, Granger, why does one who is trying so hard to ignore me taking such an interest in what I am I doing?" Malfoy didn't look at Hermione as he said this.

This surprised Hermione. She tried desperately to think of how to reply to him. "Well…I just…" she stuttered.

"Y-you what?" mimicked Malfoy. "You wanted to get a good look at the guy who tried to kill your dear headmaster? Is that it?" He scoffed. "Save it."

Hermione was shocked, to say the least, to hear him bring that up. "No," she said objectively. "That's not it." She paused. "I know you didn't want to do it."

"Oh, _please_, Granger," Malfoy cackled. "I knew you were naïve, but you really went all the way with that one."

Hermione was confused. "So," she began. "You mean, you did want to kill Dumbledore?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I never said that. But honestly, do you think it even _matters_ what _I _want?" He chuckled darkly. "No, no, I don't give the orders, no sir," he said in a far-off tone. After a moment, he snapped out of his reverie, glanced at Hermione, and realized whom he was talking to. He crossed his arms and sat back in his chair again.

"But, why…" Hermione started.

"No," stated Malfoy. "No more questions."

"Very well," said Hermione, rolling her eyes. She looked back at her notes.

"What's the point?" said Malfoy. "You're just going to look at me again. Might as well just keep your eyes in the same place, ay?"

Hermione scoffed. "Has anyone ever told you that you are the most arrogant human being on earth?"

"Proud of it," said Malfoy.

Hermione glared at Malfoy. "I wish you had never come back," she said under her breath, starting to turn back to her notes.

Malfoy laughed at this. Hermione thought that it was probably the first time she had heard him truly laugh, and when she turned to glare at him, he flashed her a perfect smile.

Hermione felt butterflies in her stomach.

"Don't wish for things you don't really want, Granger" said Malfoy, gazing into Hermione's eyes. Even though he was all the way across the room, his eyes bore into her like bolts of electricity.

What was he talking about? Why wouldn't she want him not to come back to Hogwarts?

Hermione tried, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from Malfoy's gaze. It wasn't until she heard the door creak again that she quickly averted her eyes and looked toward the doorway. Malfoy coolly pulled a book from his bag and began to read, acting as if they had never spoken a word to each other. Professor McGonagall walked into the classroom.

"Good morning, Miss Granger," she said, surprised yet pleased.

Hermione smiled at her professor. "Morning, professor."

For a moment, it seemed as if McGonagall hadn't noticed Malfoy lounging at the other end of the room. But, presently, she noticed another body in the room, and when she realized who it was, her face became quite grave.

"Hello, Mister Malfoy," she said without emotion.

"Professor," replied Malfoy, coolly looking back at her.

McGonagall began to prepare for class as the students started to file in. Hermione pulled out a quill and fresh parchment. As she continued to prepare for class, she heard a familiar voice above her.

"Morning, Hermione," said Ron cheerfully.

"Morning, Ron," replied Hermione. She noticed Harry beside him. "Morning, Harry."

"Morning, Hermione," Harry replied. He seemed to be in a better mood than he had yesterday.

Ron glanced to the back of the room, where Malfoy was reclined in his seat, and grimaced.

"What in Merlin's name is he so smug about?" he muttered.

"Ron," Hermione warned. "Please don't. Just sit down, okay?"

Ron was still scowling at Malfoy when he took a seat next to Hermione. Harry sat on the other side of Ron.

"Are these your notes?" Ron asked, gaping at Hermione's work.

"Yes," said Hermione. "I only was able to take notes on the first ten chapters."

"Ten chapters?!" said a baffled Ron. "I've said it before and I'll say it again, she's mental," he muttered to Harry.

Hermione laughed. "I've never heard _that_ one before," she said sarcastically.

Ron grinned. "But it's true," he said.

"And yet you still put up with me," Hermione replied.

"I wouldn't say that," said Ron. "I don't feel like I have to "put up" with you, Hermione. Not ever." His face was suddenly earnest.

Hermione smiled weakly. It looked as if Ron was trying to take her hand. Suddenly flustered by the situation, Hermione knocked over her inkbottle. It spilled across the desk, spoiling the edge of her notes.

"Blast it," said Hermione. Some of the other students in the class (namely Slytherins) snickered.

Professor McGonagall noticed the spilled ink. "Not to worry, Miss Granger." Pointing her wand at the mess, she muttered a spell. The ink was gone. Hermione up righted the bottle.

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said gratefully.

"Of course," she replied, smiling at Hermione. Tucking her wand back into her robe, the professor turned to the class. "If you would all settle down, we will now begin the lesson."

Students that had been standing took their seats and pulled out their Transfiguration books. Ron, who seemed a bit discouraged by the ink incident and Hermione's unwillingness to take his hand, reluctantly pulled out his book.

When Hermione was almost sure no one was looking, she stole a glance toward the back of the classroom. Malfoy was watching Hermione with a look of utter amusement on his face. He had obviously seen the ink incident and seemed to be incredibly entertained by it. Hermione noticed that Pansy and Millicent Bulstrode were sitting at the desk next to Malfoy, and were whispering back and forth while glancing at him. Pansy had a very smug look on her face, as if she had just won a great prize. Hermione wondered if Malfoy had talked to her last night after the feast. Or perhaps they had done more than talked.

But honestly, Hermione didn't want to know. She turned her head back towards the front of the classroom before anyone noticed her looking.

---

For the remainder of the day, Hermione didn't have another class with Malfoy, not until the very last class, which was potions. For some reason, the potions classroom was no longer in the dungeon it had always been in, and it had been switched to a different dungeon.

_Guess I didn't get the memo_, thought Hermione. She had gone to the regular potions classroom without ever knowing that the room had been changed. She wandered around the dungeons until she finally heard voices coming from one of the rooms. She walked towards it and went inside. Professor Slughorn, the potions professor, turned to Hermione.

"Miss Granger!" he exclaimed. "Why, how are you my dear girl?"

"Quite well, Professor Slughorn, thank you," Hermione replied. "I'm so sorry I'm late, I wasn't aware…"

"Perfectly understandable, Miss Granger, now if you will please take a seat, I will begin the lesson."

Hermione nodded and turned toward the class. She looked around and saw Ron and Harry seated together at a bench. Ron shrugged, as if to say, _sorry, we couldn't save you a seat._ Then Hermione saw where the only seat left was.

Right next to Malfoy.

Hermione hesitated. Professor Slughorn seemed impatient.

"Miss Granger, please, sit down. I believe," he said, looking around the classroom, "that there is one seat left…ah yes, next to Mister Malfoy. Don't delay, now."

Hermione made her way across the room, keeping her head down. She glanced at the desk behind Malfoy and saw Pansy and Millicent seated together again. Pansy gave Hermione the most evil glare she had ever seen, and Hermione felt a cold chill go down her spine. She quickly averted her eyes.

When she arrived at the bench, she set her bag down and took her seat. She quickly glanced at Malfoy. He had a bored, relaxed expression on his face. He hadn't even acknowledged the fact that Hermione had just sat down next to him.

Professor Slughorn started the lesson. He explained that they would be brewing Draught of Peace, which is a potion that relieves stress and induces calm in the drinker.

"Draught of Peace," explained Slughorn, "is a very useful potion, especially when your OWL exams come around. It is no secret how anxious students become under a little pressure," he laughed. "It is relatively simple to make, so take your time and I will be around to check them within half an hour."

The ingredients, which were already laid out on the desk, were powdered moonstone and syrup of hellebore. Since Hermione had never made this potion before, she started to pull out her Potions book.

"Don't bother." Malfoy suddenly spoke up after being silent for the entire lesson. His voice startled Hermione. "I've made this before." He pulled out his wand.

"_Incendio,"_ he muttered, pointing to the space under the cauldron. A fire sparked. He reached for the moonstone and deposited some into the cauldron.

"Aren't we supposed to add the syrup?" Hermione asked after a minute.

"Well of course we are," snapped Malfoy. "Why do you think its here?"

"I mean," stammered Hermione. "When do we add it?"

"We have to wait until the moonstone melts. It may take at least a quarter hour," Malfoy replied.

"Oh," replied Hermione.

She glanced to her side and saw Ron nervously eyeing Malfoy. She knew that Ron didn't like the fact that she and Malfoy were potion partners, but Hermione was more nervous about the Slytherin sitting behind her than the one next to her. She could hear Pansy whispering to Millicent, and for all Hermione knew, they could be scheming Hermione's murder.

In reality, Hermione didn't really mind being partners with Malfoy. He seemed to know what he was doing, for one thing. And instead of teasing Hermione, he mostly ignored her. It was an improvement, at least.

Hermione noticed that he was taking notes. She wondered if she should be taking notes, too. She observed the way his slow, steady hand inscribed his precise and curvy script. She watched the way his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and his broad shoulders arched over his long, strong arms. Hermione found she was admiring him. It surprised her, to say the least.

Malfoy realized, not for the first time, that the silly little mudblood was watching him. He sighed and glanced up at her.

Hermione quickly averted her eyes and suddenly became very interested in the bookshelf against the wall of the classroom. But Malfoy wasn't fooled.

"Granger," he whispered sharply. "If you keep that up, it will be both our heads on the chopping block, if you know what I mean."

Hermione looked back at Malfoy. Although his words were sharp and commanding, his face was sincere. She looked down at the desk.

"Sorry," she murmured.

"Don't be sorry," Malfoy retorted. "Just stop."

Malfoy went back to his notes. "If you are wondering what I'm doing, I'm taking notes about the state of the moonstone every few minutes."

"Oh," said Hermione. "Thanks." She pulled out parchment and her quill. She started to pull out her inkbottle.

"Don't," said Malfoy, still concentrating on his paper. Hermione was sure this was because he didn't want Pansy to see him talking to Hermione. "We don't want to have another spill, do we?" He smirked. "Just use mine."

Hermione rolled her eyes but put the ink back in her bag. "I've learned my lesson," she sighed. "I'm not going to knock it over again."

Malfoy chuckled darkly. "I'm not so sure about that, _mudblood_," he said. _So much for not teasing_, Hermione thought. "If I'm correct, the reason you knocked it over in the first place was because you were flustered by the Weasel. I wonder, what did he do to make you so nervous?"

Hermione's eyes widened. How did Malfoy know it was Ron that made her knock over the ink?

Malfoy cautiously glanced at Hermione and smirked. "No matter. But as I was saying, I can't risk you becoming nervous again. Since, we both know how tense you become when _I'm_ around."

Hermione tried to remain calm. "I'm not scared of you, Malfoy," she said evenly.

"I didn't say you were scared," Malfoy replied.

He didn't say anything more about it. Hermione was confused, but she didn't know how to ask him to explain.

She began to take notes on the moonstone. She carefully dipped her quill in Malfoy's ink and put the tip to her parchment.

_The moonstone has almost completely melted,_ Hermione wrote._ There is a pool of silver liquid surrounding the remaining stone. The liquid seems to be glowing._

Hermione reached toward the inkbottle to dip her quill again. But Malfoy did the same at the same moment, and his hand brushed against hers.

Hermione blushed and quickly retracted her arm. "Sorry," she said shyly.

Malfoy didn't reply. He just sighed and continued writing.

Hermione looked toward the cauldron. "The moonstone has melted," she stated.

Malfoy looked up. He reached for the syrup, measured out two spoonfuls, and poured it in.

"Now what?" asked Hermione.

"Stir it," ordered Malfoy, holding out the spoon. Hermione took it, dipped it into the potion, and stirred. The potion started to bubble.

"Is it supposed to do that?" asked Hermione.

"That means its finished," replied Malfoy. Once again, he pointed his wand to the flame underneath the cauldron and muttered_, "Aguamenti." _A small jet of water came from the end of his wand, dousing the flame.

After a few minutes, Professor Slughorn came around the room to check on the students' potions. From what Hermione could see, everyone had done quite well. When Slughorn came to Ron and Harry, he put his face up to the potion and sniffed.

"Not bad, boys," he said. "But you should have added more syrup. Else it won't go down smoothly!" he chuckled.

Then he came over to Hermione and Malfoy. "Ah, if it isn't two of my best students," he chuckled. "Not a bad pair, not a bad pair at all." He inspected the potion. His face lit up.

"This potion is exemplary," he exclaimed. He dipped his finger in the solution and put it in his mouth. "And with a perfect texture! This is quite impressive, even when it'scoming from some prize students," he chuckled. Finally, he continued on to the next pair.

Malfoy smirked. He was obviously very satisfied with his own brilliance. Although normally, Hermione would roll her eyes at this, his smugness somehow made her smile.

Malfoy saw this and frowned. "What are you so happy about?" he scoffed.

"Well, I got an excellent grade, for one thing," she said.

"You mean _I_ got an excellent grade," Malfoy retorted.

"Well, we're partners, after all," replied Hermione.

"Yes," said Malfoy, slightly irritated, "But _I _did the work."

"Yes," said Hermione. "Thanks, by the way," she added.

"Humph," was the only sound Malfoy made.

"Students," said Slughorn from the front of the classroom. "I'm afraid our time is just about over. Clean up your stations. If you'd like, you may take the potion in the vials for your use. If not, please dispose of them."

Hermione started to clean up the desk. She set the ingredients back on their trays and rolled up her parchment.

"Do you want the potion?" she asked Malfoy.

"Unlike you," he scoffed, "I don't need some potion to calm down."

"I'll take that as a 'No'," muttered Hermione. She picked up a vial and carefully poured the potion into it. She corked the top and put it in her bag.

Then they were dismissed. Hermione had barely gotten up from her seat when she heard a familiar yet annoying voice come from behind her.

"Finally!" said an approaching Pansy, exasperated. "Oh, Draco, I'm _so_ _sorry!_ If I had known the _mudblood_ was going to be your partner, I would have _never_ left you to yourself!" She grabbed Malfoy's collar and pulled him close. "Was it terrible?" she pouted.

Malfoy stood there, deciding for a moment. He glanced at Hermione's disgusted expression, and smirked. He pulled in Pansy close and looked into her eyes.

"Worse than you can imagine," he said. He stroked Pansy's cheek with the back of his hand. "Am I going to have to punish you for leaving me alone?" he whispered sexily.

Pansy shuddered. "Promise?" she whispered.

Repulsed, Hermione turned to leave. She walked towards the door, where Ron and Harry were waiting.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" asked a concerned Ron.

Hermione guessed that he asked this because of the still repulsed expression on her face.

"Of course," she replied.

"How was it having Malfoy as a partner?" asked Harry.

"Well, he hasn't changed, if course," said Hermione. "But I know how to put up with him."

"Did he call you a…" started Ron.

Hermione understood him. She nodded.

"That bastard!" Ron whispered sharply. He glared at Malfoy.

Hermione sighed. "Honestly, Ron, what good will it do?"

Ron let down. "Next time," he said as they walked into the corridor, "I'll be your partner."

Hermione laughed. "You know, Ron, I _am_ capable of taking care of myself."

As the trio walked down the corridor, Hermione looked back. All the students, except two, had cleared from the corridor. From what Hermione could see, Malfoy had pushed Pansy up against the wall, and they were locked in a passionate kiss.

Hermione thought back to Ron's question, when he asked her if she was okay.

She realized she wasn't okay. And as she tried and tried to convince herself it wasn't true, she couldn't deny it.

All of the sudden, she was dreadfully, incredibly, and entirely jealous of Pansy.


	4. You Want Me

**Author's Note: I'm really pleased with the reviews I received for my last chapter. Thank you: Sugar Heart, xMyxSnowxWhitexQueenx, Toxxic-hugs, ZoeyPie21, darkhearted lonewolf, and mary-pi. I got 109 hits for the last chapter, too! Anyway, I like this chapter, and I hope you do too. I have put so much effort into this story, you can't understand. Once again, if you read, you must review. **

That night was Hermione's first Head meeting with Ernie, and they had agreed to meet in the Head common room. Their adjoined dormitories were on the second floor of the school, and they were quite nice. Hermione liked having her own dorm, though she missed the Gryffindor Dorms. She vowed to visit the Gryffindor common room whenever she could.

When Hermione arrived at the common room, Ernie was already seated at a desk, reading a roll of parchment. He looked up when he heard Hermione walk in.

"Good evening, Hermione," he said, nodding at her.

"Good evening, Ernie," Hermione replied, taking a seat across from Ernie. Although she had known Ernie ever since she came to Hogwarts, she really didn't know him that well. She held up in high regards, however, because of his support of Harry's belief that Voldemort had retuned in their 5th year. He had also been a member of Dumbledore's Army.

Ernie started the meeting right away. "First, we have to go over our duties. This is a list that Professor McGonagall gave me."

He read off the duties, which included patrolling the school at night, organizing school events, and disciplining students by taking points when rules are broken. "The heads of school must meet at least once a week to keep each other informed about the condition of the school, and at least once every two weeks with the headmaster/mistress," Ernie read. "Also, every month, the heads must meet with all the prefects."

After he had finished reading, he and Hermione set up patrolling times. Hermione agreed to patrol Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, while Ernie took Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday. They agreed to switch off Saturday every other week.

Hermione was tired from a long day, and was relieved when Ernie finally ended the meeting. She bade Ernie good night and went up to her dorm. She removed her robes and changed into her comfortable pajamas. She was sure that she would drift off to sleep as soon as she climbed into bed.

But when her head hit the pillow, she immediately started to think about what other people were doing at that moment. She imagined Ernie rolling up his parchment, putting away his books, and walking to his dorm. She saw Ron and Harry sitting by the fire in the Gryffindor common room, perhaps playing chess or arguing about something silly.

And then she saw two people she had been dreading to think about. In her mind, she saw Malfoy and Pansy. They were entwined on a bed with green and silver sheets, turning over one way and the other. Malfoy's shirt was off and his muscles rippled against Pansy's smooth skin. His hair was disheveled and it swept dangerously across his forehead, while Pansy sleek black hair fell back untidily against the pillows. Pansy's arms encircled Malfoy's neck while he held Pansy's back with his strong arms. Pansy cried out in pleasure as Malfoy put his lips to her neck…

Hermione couldn't take it any more. She hastily sat up, breathing hard, beads of sweat strewn across her forehead. She slid out of bed and onto the cold stone floor. She crept out of the room and down the dark staircase. She walked to the common room and peeked inside. Ernie was gone. The fire had died down a little, but still shed some light on the couch opposite it.

Hermione tiptoed to the couch and sat down. She hadn't been sitting a minute when something large and furry bounded into her lap. Hermione gasped.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione exclaimed. "How dare you sneak up on me like that?!" She was very startled, but still pleased to see her furry friend. She held the cat close and nuzzled her to her face.

"Oh, Crookshanks," Hermione said, her voice muffled by the cat's fur, "You always seem to know when I need a friend."

The cat only stared up at her. "Mrow."

Hermione lay down on the couch. She set the cat on her chest and stroked its fur. The warm weight and the slow motion of Hermione's hand were calming. Her breath slowed, and within a few minutes, Hermione had fallen asleep.

---

When she woke up the next morning, blinded by the sun shining through the large window of the common room, Hermione was anything but rested. Even though she had fallen asleep at a reasonable hour, her night had been full of fitful nightmares.

She glanced up at the large clock above the fireplace. It was a five to eight. That meant that she had missed breakfast and there was only five minutes till class was to begin.

Hermione practically sprinted up to her dorm. She threw on her uniform, tossing her cloak over her shoulders. Gathering her books and parchment, she made her way to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

---

She seemed to have arrived just in time. All the students were sitting down, but Professor Clark was still seated at his desk and had not begun the lesson. He didn't look up when Hermione walked in, so she searched the classroom for her friends.

Thankfully, Harry and Ron, who were seated in the second row, had saved her a seat. Relieved, Hermione walked over to them and sat down.

Harry leaned over to her. "Hey, we missed you at breakfast," he whispered.

"I know," she whispered back. "I was just tired. I decided to sleep in."

Ron, who was sitting on the other side of Harry, nodded. "Well, you're just in time. Looks like the new professor is just about to start."

Professor Clark stood up and came to the front of the class. "Good Morning, students. Although I have already been introduced at the feast, my name is William Clark." He paused. "Because I know you are going to ask, I might as well get it over with. Yes, I am American, and no, I never went to Hogwarts as a student," he said, smiling. The class laughed. "I went to the Salem School of Magic in Salem, Massachusetts. You may judge me and say that I am inexperienced, but if you give me a chance, I can teach you the critical spells and techniques necessary to defend against dark magic. All right, seeing as it is the first day, we need to review. Who can tell me what the three Unforgivable Curses are?"

Many of the students raised their hands. Professor Clark continued to ask questions about the Dark Arts, assessing their knowledge. As the review continued, Hermione was having trouble concentrating. Her weary eyes began to wander.

Suddenly, her eyes stopped. Sitting on the other side of the classroom was Malfoy, with an ever-conceited Pansy at his side. Pansy was ogling him like he was some kind of god. However, Malfoy didn't seem so satisfied. His face was humorless, and he was slightly irritated. It seemed like he was trying very hard to ignore the flirtatious witch beside him.

Strangely, Hermione had the urge to comfort Malfoy. She imagined herself closer to him, in Pansy's seat.

She reaches out and touches the indent of his cheek. He turns to face her, making her feel chills up and down her spine with his cold, silver eyes. She looks around. They are alone in the classroom. When she looks back at him, Malfoy reaches out to her and wraps his arms around her waist. He brings her close to him, and in one swift motion, brings his lips down to hers. She is shocked, but relaxes as his lips move slowly against hers. She wraps her arms around his neck, aching to get closer…

"Hermione?"

Harry's voice snapped her out of her trance. She realized that she had been breathing irregularly and that her cheeks were flushed. She glanced around the classroom to see if anyone else had noticed. No one had. Except…

Malfoy. He was eyeing her suspiciously, trying to read her expression. She turned away from his prying eyes.

"Hermione," Harry whispered. "What's going on?"

Hermione turned to Harry's confused face. She blushed.

"I suppose I'm not feeling well," she replied, trying to avoid his eyes.

"Well, do you need to go to Madame Pomfrey?" he asked.

"No," she said quickly. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

Harry nodded and went back to listening to Professor Clark. Hermione let out a relieved sigh, hoping that no one heard it.

_What on earth is wrong with me?_ Hermione thought. _Why can't I control myself?_

She silently commanded herself to keep her eyes off of Malfoy for the rest of the lesson, and forced herself to pay attention.

Professor Clark had started a debate on whether Dark Arts should be taught in schools or not. Hermione thought she heard some Slytherins complain about when they were going to actually do some magic, but most of the students participated.

Harry believed that they shouldn't be taught because students might abuse that power.

"What if someone wanted to hurt someone else he or she didn't like? They would know how to do dangerous curses," he argued.

"I disagree with Potter." Hermione heard Malfoy's patronizing voice from the other side of the room.

"Very well," said Professor Clark. "What do you think, Mister…"

"Malfoy," finished the Slytherin, smirking.

"Mister Malfoy," said the Professor. "Go ahead."

"I just don't see the point of not teaching the Dark Arts," he said. "If we aren't taught it, most of us will learn it on our own, anyway. Isn't that right, Potter?" he finished, glaring at Harry.

Harry glared back.

Hermione suddenly remembered last year when Harry found Malfoy in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, sobbing his heart out. Malfoy attempted to jinx Harry, but Harry was quicker, using the _Sectumsempra _curse, slashing Malfoy's face and torso.

If that wasn't dark magic, Hermione didn't know what was.

Professor Clark looked perplexedly from Harry to Malfoy. "Well, maybe you're right," he said slowly. He looked at the clock. "Looks like we're out of time. If you want, we'll continue this debate tomorrow."

Hermione looked back at Harry. He was no longer glaring at Malfoy, but was still livid.

"Harry," said Hermione, concerned. "Forget him. He's just trying to get you going."

"I know," He looked up, waiting for Malfoy to leave. When he was out the door, Harry stood up.

"Let's go," he said. Ron and Hermione followed him out the door.

---

For the rest of the week, Hermione was distracted. By Friday, she didn't know what to do with herself.

She was relieved for the weekend to have finally come. She had promised Harry and Ron that she would join them in the Gryffindor common room when classes let out. They sat near the fire, talking about the new D.A.D.A. professor.

"Well, I think he's quite good," said Ron. "I mean, he's practical. He teaches us what we need to know, and what we need to know only."

"I agree," said Harry. "But don't you think we already know most it?"

"I suppose," said Ron, thoughtfully. "What do you think, Hermione?" he asked, turning to her.

Hermione snapped to attention. "Oh, uh, I suppose," she murmured. She had been so distracted she hadn't even heard the question.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Hermione, have you even been listening?"

She sighed. "Sorry, Ron, I was just distracted. I guess I'm just tired."

"Hermione," said Harry. "You've been like this all week. What's gotten into you?"

Hermione looked at Ron and Harry's concerned expressions.

"I…" She stared. She what? She couldn't tell them what was _really _going on. She hadn't even really admitted it to herself. But she couldn't deny herself for much longer. She knew _exactly_ why she was so distracted.

She had been constantly thinking about Malfoy. _Draco Malfoy._ Yes, the very same Draco Malfoy that had tried to kill the headmaster. Who was a death-eater. And who was Harry's enemy Her best friend's _enemy._

If she wasn't thinking about him, she was staring at him during class. She just couldn't help it. He was just so _perfect_. His smooth features, his hair slightly askew, his pink lips that curled into that oh-so-beautiful crooked smile, and his silver eyes that took Hermione's breath away. When he would look at Hermione, she would nearly faint. He made her feel like she was the only person in the room and like…well…like he _wanted_ her.

Why would Malfoy want Hermione _He could get any girl he wants_,_ for goodness sake!_ she thought. _I must be dreaming. He couldn't want me._

But that didn't stop Hermione from wanting him. She could barely stand it when Pansy or another girl would stroke Malfoy's arm flirtatiously or"accidentally" fall into his lap. And it frustrated her that she couldn't do that.

Because she couldn't. If anyone found out how she felt about Malfoy, it would be…just bad. Hermione didn't even want to think about it.

And that's why she had to lie to her friends.

"I…I guess I've just been worried about Voldemort," she lied.

"You mean, you're scared?" asked Ron with understanding.

"A little," she said.

Harry nodded. "It's okay, Hermione. We all are."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "Besides, Harry and I here, we won't let anything hurt you, will we, Harry?"

Harry smiled. "Of course not."

"See?" said Ron. "You've got nothing to be worried about."

Hermione smiled weakly. "Thanks, you guys," she said. "You're real friends." She looked down. "Hey, I think I need to get some fresh air. I'll catch up with you guys later, okay?"

Hermione felt terrible as she walked through the castle to get to the grounds. How could she lie to her friends like that? They were so dedicated to her. They cared so much for her. And she repaid them with lies?

She sighed deeply when she finally walked into the warm air. It was twilight, but there was still enough sun so that it warmed Hermione's chilled skin.

She tramped across the grounds until she came to the edge of the lake. She looked over the still surface of the water, and at the trees that surrounded it. She could see the reflection of everything – the trees, the clouds, the sky – on the surface of the lake. She looked down and noticed her own reflection. She crouched down to get a better look. She observed her bushy light brown hair, her dark brown eyes, and her slightly flushed cheeks.

Hermione put her hand to her cheek. Her skin was still warm from the fading sun. She closed her eyes, and let the gentle wind blow against her face.

Suddenly Hermione heard a branch snap behind her. Her eyes flew open. She looked into the lake, and right next to her reflection she saw the refection of Draco Malfoy.

She gasped. She quickly stood up and turned around to face him.

"M-Malfoy," she breathed. "You frightened me."

He was watching her carefully. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't mean to," he said, with a trace of a smile on his lips.

Hermione tried to decide what to say next. "Well, is that why you're here? To scare me?" she asked, trying to sound confident. Instead, it came out as a squeak.

Malfoy came towards her, and Hermione had to crane her neck to look up at his towering figure. "No," he said. "I need to know something." He tentatively reached out and touched Hermione's cheek.

Hermione almost flinched at the feeling of his cold fingers. She felt like she was dreaming. She couldn't believe that Draco Malfoy was touching her cheek. On purpose.

"W-what are you doing?" Hermione stuttered.

Malfoy stared her down with his silvery eyes.

"This," he said, and before Hermione could react, Malfoy had grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against him and his demanding lips.

Hermione's body was stiff. But desire overtook her, and she gently wrapped her arms around Malfoy's neck. His pursed lips slowly parted and let out his tongue. Hermione felt it against her lips, so she parted her lips, too. She couldn't help but moan as Malfoy's tongue deftly explored her mouth. He brought her even closer, almost lifting her off the ground.

Hermione thought she would faint. The smell of Malfoy was intoxicating. And when he finally drew away from Hermione, she was breathless. He was only inches from her face, his lips still parted, gazing into Hermione's eyes.

Hermione suddenly realized what she was doing.

"Malfoy, I–"

"Draco," he said. "My name is Draco…Hermione."

She tried to slow her breathing. "Draco…" The name sounded strange on Hermione's lips. Draco began to come closer, as if he was going to kiss her again.

Hermione resisted. "I…can't," she whispered.

"But you already did," he replied, smirking.

"I…have to go…" Hermione said it, but her eyes were still on Draco's perfect lips.

Just as Hermione was about to pull away, Draco's hand slid up from her waist, up her abdomen, and brushed against her breast. Then he began to massage it.

Hermione began to breathe hard again. Draco suddenly put his lips to hers again and kissed her slow and sensually while his hand continued to caress her.

Hermione closed her eyes and knotted her hand through Draco's hair. He moved his hand from her chest up to her collar. He began to unbutton her shirt.

When he had undone a few buttons, Draco pulled his lips away from Hermione's and put them to her neck. He kissed her all the way down to her collarbone, and continued to push her blouse out of the way until his lips met her shoulder.

Just as Hermione again felt like she was going to faint, Draco wrapped his arms around her waist and brought his head up to face her.

"I was right," said Draco triumphantly.

"W-what?" Hermione breathed.

"You want me." Draco could barely keep from smirking as he said this.

"No…" Hermione started. But before she could say anymore, Draco had rubbed his midsection against hers, and Hermione felt his hardness through their clothes.

"Draco…" Hermione moaned.

Draco smiled. "And I love it when you say my name," he breathed.

Hermione somehow managed to smile in her dazed state.

"Draco…Draco…" she teased.

"Dear God," groaned Draco. Once again, he pushed his mouth against Hermione's, moving his tongue against hers. Hermione moaned into his mouth as he lifted her up again.

Opening her eyes, she realized how late it was getting. She pulled away.

"I…I have to go. My friends…"

"Your friends," he laughed. "You know, Potter and Weasley can't give you want I can give you," he said seductively.

Hermione felt butterflies in her stomach. "They…" she started, trying to regain her composure. "They will be wondering where I am."

Draco gazed into her eyes for a moment. "Fine," he said finally. His hand came to her face, stroking it softly. "But remember," he said sexily, "I'll be watching you."

Hermione blushed as she broke away from Draco's warm body. She stood there for a moment, gazing into his silver eyes that were now blazing from the orange sunset.

Resisting the urge to fall into his arms again, Hermione turned from Draco's penetrating gaze and ran back to the castle, not daring to look back.


End file.
